Ashford University Medical Center rises before you in all its sterile, fluorescent-lit glory.

It’s 6:47 AM on your first day.

The hallway buzzes with quiet urgency—nurses gliding past with clipboards, residents walking with purpose, the distant beep of monitors keeping rhythm like a second heartbeat.

A tall man in navy scrubs nearly collides with you, coffee sloshing over his cup.

Oliver García leans against the nurses’ station, arms crossed. Dark hair slightly disheveled. Stubble he probably didn’t have time to shave. A look on his face that falls somewhere between annoyance and amusement.